


Life In Slow Motion

by xXdreameaterXx



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-04
Updated: 2015-01-04
Packaged: 2018-03-05 10:08:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 15,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3116153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xXdreameaterXx/pseuds/xXdreameaterXx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor's and Clara's relationship has been more than just a little rocky ever since he turned back into a Time Lord, but when Vastra asks them to watch over teenage Isabel in 1975 for a few weeks, they soon discover that a looming alien threat is the least of their problems. Sequel to Family Ties.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Life In Slow Motion

 

Chapter 1 - Prologue

 

“I never get to choose any more,” Clara complained, letting herself fall into the cosy armchair, pouting.  
“Stop that. Now!” the Doctor said and pointed at her face.  
“Stop what?”  
“The mouth-thing you do. It's not flattering. Besides, you chose the last destination.”  
“Ha,” Clara jumped up again, her arms crossed, “That's a lie! I've asked you three times to take me to Woodstock, yet you insisted on a planet.”  
“I took you to Woodstock, remember?” the Doctor said innocently, avoiding her eyes.  
“Woodstock on earth, not Woodstock on what's-its-name-planet-thingy where we were chased by a cannibalistic tribe,” Clara almost screamed.  
“Well, you should have been more specific.”  
“Argh,” Clara grunted and turned away from him, “Never do a tango with an Eskimo.”  
“What, what's that supposed to mean?” the Doctor asked.  
“Nothing!” Clara said angrily, adding: “Only a song title.”

Sometimes she couldn't stand looking at him any more. 3 months had passed – for her – since they had left London in 1966. Clara had thought that changing him back into a Time Lord would surely be the end of their romance, but the Doctor had confessed to her that he sort of fancied her. At least, that's what Clara thought it had meant. But she didn't see it now. He had dropped her off at home, and came back a whole month later, not mentioning what had happened in London with a single word. In fact, his visits had grown scarce. Clara had tried to address London 1966 once, but the Doctor only reacted with moodiness.   
But today she was so angry with him.

“Doctor,” Clara said with a grave tone in her voice, “You do like me, don't you?”  
The Doctor stared at her in confusion, the favourite state of his 12th regeneration when it came to human emotions and human interaction. “Yes, of course.”  
“Okay. But would it kill you to show it once in a while?”  
“Probably not. Why?”  
“Becaaaaause,” Clara said, dragging the word and moving a little closer to him, “I didn't expect our relationship to continue like, you know, when you were human. But I thought that. . .” she suddenly stopped, thinking about how stupid it was, bringing up the subject.  
“You thought what?” he asked, still dumbfounded.  
“Ah, never mind.”  
“Clara, what happened in 1966, it's impossible. It will never be like that. I'm a Time Lord. I can't settle down like you humans.”  
“I'm not asking you to settle down. I. . .”

The ring of the TARDIS phone interrupted her. The Doctor stared at it for a while, considering whether he should pick up or not.   
“Who could that be?” Clara asked, intrigued.  
“I have no idea. Let's find out?”

The Doctor picked up the phone and talked to someone for about a minute. When he finally hung up, his face was unreadable.   
“Well, who was it?”  
“That was Vastra. She needs our help, apparently,” the Doctor explained.  
“With what?” Clara asked.  
“She didn't say. So, is London 1975 close enough to Woodstock for you?”  
Clara sighed. She would never attend the festival.

 

OOO

 

“Do you really think this is a good idea?” Jenny asked.  
“I don't know,” Vastra said, shrugging, “But I think this situation calls for a firm, male hand. And by that I don't mean Strax.”  
“Will you tell him?”  
“No. I think he will find out very soon,” Vastra said, “I'm sure they'll be able to handle this.”  
“We can only hope so. This is a nightmare.”  
“Jenny!”  
“Don't tell me you're not thinking the same thing.”  
“You're right, my dear. But it's our failure.”

The sound of the TARDIS interrupted their conversation and the blue box materialized in the conservatory. The Doctor and Clara, both looking a little grumpy, stepped out a moment later.   
“You called for help?”, the Doctor asked, now looking enthusiastic, “I hope we landed at the right time?”  
“Perfect timing, just like I described,” Vastra complimented him.  
“So, let me get this straight. When she describes a time and place, we arrive at the perfect time. When I say Woodstock, we land on a cannibalistic planet?”  
“Ah, drop it, Clara. Here's an adventure waiting. Woodstock, on the other hand. . .”  
“Well?”  
“Boring.”

Clara decided to just ignore the Doctor for the time being and instead turned to Vastra and Jenny. “What's the emergency?”  
“My work as a detective requires that I have to go to America and work with the FBI on a rather strange case. And I need the assistance of Jenny and Strax for that,” she explained, “We need someone to watch Isabel for a few weeks.”  
The Doctor's jaw dropped. “You need a babysitter?”  
“Well, if you put it that way.”  
“I'm not a babysitter. I'm the Doctor.”  
“Yes, I am aware of that,” Vastra gave a polite smile, “But Isabel is only 15. I just wouldn't be comfortable leaving her alone for a few weeks.”  
“Weeks? I can't stay here for a few weeks,” the Doctor protested, “Find someone else to do it.”  
He was about to turn around and head back for the TARDIS when Clara grabbed his arm.  
“We'll do it,” she said, “Isabel knows us and we know of her powers. You won't find anyone better for the job.”  
“Yes, she will, now come on,” the Doctor said but Clara still held his arm.  
“Doctor, a few weeks on earth won't kill you. And as you have pointed out in the past, you owe Vastra. Also, she took the dog. Remember?”  
The Doctor let out a grunting sound. “Fine. Fine, we'll do it.”  
“Excellent,” Vastra smiled, “You can stay in our house. Please, make yourself at home.”

Vastra checked her watch. “Well, we better be off. Have a nice time.”  
“You're leaving so soon?” Clara asked.  
“See ya,” Jenny said, “Strax is already waiting in the car.”

A few moments later, only the Doctor and Clara remained in the conservatory.  
“Nicely done,” the Doctor complained, “Now what?”  
“Now we play house. Again.”


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The Doctor and Clara stood in silence for a while, wondering what to do next. When he cleared his throat to cover the awkwardness, Clara opened her mouth to speak.  
“I, uhm. Do you think they've had the time to tell Isabel?” she asked him.  
“No idea.”  
“I better go and say hi. Wanna come?”  
“Ah, no. You go ahead.”

The Doctor waited until he was certain that Clara had really left the room and headed straight for his TARDIS. He would just fly off and return in a few weeks. Clara would be fine. She was great with kids. He, on the other end, not so much. It would be better for everyone if he just left.  
He had already flicked a few switches of the TARDIS when suddenly he started to feel incredibly guilty. No, he didn't do guilt. That was not his thing. And yet, part of him felt bad for leaving Clara, even though he knew she was going to do just fine on her own. Before the TARDIS engines sounded, he switched it off again. He would regret staying, he was sure of that. But it was the right thing to do. 

 

OOO

 

Clara wandered around the corridors of the house, wondering where she was going to find Isabel's room. She didn't have to wonder for very long, because she soon discovered a door that had a big “keep out” sign glued to it. Clara sighed. Isabel was now 15 or 16 and apparently a typical teenager. She knocked on the door but there was no answer. Clara knocked again and when she still heard nothing, she entered the room. 

Isabel was lying on her bed with big headphones over her ears that were connected to a tape recorder. She was reading a Rolling Stone magazine. Not only had the little girl grown since Clara last saw her, but she was starting to look like a punk, judging from her clothes.  
Clara stepped in front of her, smiling. Isabel glanced at her and reluctantly removed her headphones.  
“There's a sign on the door,” Clara head the voice in her head but never saw Isabel's lips move.   
“How. . . how did you do that?” Clara asked.  
Isabel groaned. “I spoke. Telepathically,” she replied, this time actually speaking.  
“Wow, I guess your talents have evolved since I last saw you. You remember me?”  
“Yes. You and the Doctor. He's here as well,” Isabel said, but she didn't seem very exited about the fact.  
Clara sat down on Isabel's bed. “Vastra and Jenny asked us to look after you for a little while. You okay with that?”

Isabel shrugged. Suddenly a smile appeared on Isabel's face when they both heard steps coming from the stairs. A few seconds later, the Doctor appeared in the doorway.  
“I've brought you a little something,” the Doctor announced, holding up a Walkman and several tapes.  
Isabel jumped up to look at the gifts the Doctor had brought her.  
“Now, be careful not to show any of this to your friends. This thing won't be invented for another four years.”  
“The Sex Pistols?” Clara asked when she caught a glimpse of the tapes, “I didn't know they were active in 1975.”  
“They aren't. Another thing Isabel would have to wait for but she'll love them,” he turned back to the girl, “So, agreed?”  
“Agreed,” Isabel smiled. The Doctor smiled back.  
“Wait a second. What's going on here? What are you two agreeing on?” Clara asked, looking at the two of them.  
“Oh, we can communicate telepathically. Isabel is very gifted in that area. Show her,” he told Isabel.

Clara felt a tingling in her head. She walked over to the window and opened it.  
“Okay, now, tell me why you just did that,” the Doctor demanded.  
Clara turned around to look at the window. Why had she done that? Why had she opened the window? “I don't know,” she replied.  
“Isabel told you to. Only works on inferior life forms like humans though,” the Doctor explained.  
“Hey!” Clara suddenly felt very uncomfortable. A teenager with Isabel's powers could be very dangerous. Especially if you should command everyone around her to do her bidding.

“I have to walk Sammy now,” Isabel announced.   
“Oh, the furry thing,” the Doctor said with a trace of disgust in his voice.  
“You're the one who bought him for me, remember?” Isabel said, raising her eyebrows.  
“Yeah, wasn't exactly myself back then.”

Isabel headed off into the garden to find Sammy and left the Doctor and Clara alone again.   
“Okay, so, that went well,” Clara said, although she didn't sound very convincing.   
“I wouldn't be so sure of that,” the Doctor replied.  
“What do you mean?”  
“Vastra and Jenny didn't call us because they had to go to America. They called us because they thought we could straighten her out.”  
“Oh,” Clara uttered.  
“Yes. Oh. But you're good with kids, right?” the Doctor winked at her. 

 

OOO

 

A spaceship was hovering over the earth. The aliens were busily going about their jobs as the commander walked along the corridors and entered a private room.   
“We're now directly above London and have located the girl,” the commander told her.  
“Thank you. Now all we need to do is wait,” the woman said.  
“Wait? Didn't you say she was ready?” he asked.  
“Not quite. But she will be ready very, very soon.”


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

 

“The guest bedroom is ready,” Clara announced as she walked into Vastra's study. She found the Doctor going through Vastra's books.  
“No, thank you. I will sleep in the TARDIS,” he said, flipping through a book absent-mindedly.  
Clara giggled. “No, you won't.”  
“Why shouldn't I sleep in my TARDIS?” he looked up, “It's got my bed in it.”  
“Becaaaause you'd run off in the middle of the night and leave me here with Isabel. And that's not going to happen. They asked us both for help.”  
“So what? I'm a time traveller. I can be back whenever I want. I could be back the exact same minute.”  
“Yes, because that has worked so well in the past. No, no, you're staying with us,” Clara said, her voice determined.  
“Yes. Boss,” the Doctor mumbled, “So, what's for dinner?” 

Clara snorted. He wasn't serious, was he?   
“What?” the Doctor asked, now putting the book aside, “If we're to play house, we should get into character.”  
“You know what? I liked you better when you were human.”  
Angrily, Clara left the study. He was insufferable and she suddenly wasn't so sure if she liked him any more. She loved him, but did she like him? Not so much at the moment. And the thought of being stuck with a time lord version of Grumpy Cat for the next few weeks suddenly didn't seem so exciting any longer. Why couldn't he just be nice to her? Just once.

 

OOO

 

“Clara?”   
Clara was fast asleep when something, or someone, was shaking her shoulder. It must be a dream, she concluded and decided to ignore it.  
“Clara! Wake up!”  
She grunted sleepily. “What?”  
Clara opened her eyes to find the Doctor sitting on their bed, fully clothed, eyes alert.  
“What?” she asked again, sitting up, “What happened?”  
“I'm bored.”  
Clara considered for a moment and then boxed the Doctor's arm.  
“Ouch! What was that for?”  
“You are. . .” she got out of bed, “Insufferable. Annoying. Obnoxious. You're a big, fat pain in the ass!”  
“Okay, that was uncalled for.”  
“No, that was absolutely called for. My kids, all of the kids at Coalhill, are easier to handle than a single one of you!” she screamed, “Whoa, that felt good.”  
“Now that we cleared that up, you can go back to sleep,” the Doctor suggested.  
“No, too agitated. It's nearly 6 anyway.”

Clara pondered her options for a moment. “Shall we go get breakfast?”  
She winked at him.  
“Excellent idea. I'm starving since you sent me to bed without dinner.”  
“So, what country has the best breakfast? France?”  
“Definitely France,” he licked his lips, “It's been ages since I've been to France. Come on, let's go.”  
“In my nightgown?”  
“That hasn't stopped anyone yet.”

 

OOO

 

The TARDIS materialized right under the Eiffel Tower and Clara jumped out.  
“Oh my God, we're in Paris. The real Paris!” she screamed with joy.   
“Well, of course we're in Paris. Where else did you reckon were we going to find fresh croissants?” the Doctor replied, closing the door behind him.  
“The most romantic city in the world,” Clara sighed.  
“The universe,” the Doctor corrected her.  
“Ha, I bet I'm the first companion you bring here,” she smiled at him.  
Suddenly the Doctor seemed to be very distracted. “Oh look, a boulangerie! Right over there.”  
“Hang on, who was she? Who did you take on a romantic trip to Paris?” Clara was suddenly intrigued. Also she felt a little jealous. She thought this trip was the first romantic move the Doctor made towards her, and it turned out to be something completely ordinary.  
“Well, I've been to Paris more often than I can count,” the Doctor now admitted, “Romantic trip? Just one. So far.”  
“Ah, so it was River, then,” Clara concluded.  
“Nope,” said the Doctor as they both crossed the street, “You want anything besides croissants?”  
“No, I'm good,” Clara sighed. Romantic trip with another companion. And they were only here to fetch breakfast. 

 

OOO

 

“Breakfast is ready,” the Doctor announced as the TARDIS landed back in the conservatory.  
“Mh, I think Isabel is still asleep,” Clara noted, “That's odd. She should get ready for school.”

Clara knocked on Isabel's door.  
“What?” was the only answer she got.  
“Come downstairs. We bought fresh croissants,” Clara said cheerfully.  
“I'm not hungry.”  
“Oh, come on. We went to France to get them. They're delicious!”  
“France? You're kidding,” now Isabel's head appeared in the crack of the door.  
“Come and taste them for yourself. By the way, why aren't you ready for school?”  
“No school today. It's teacher-thing-day,” Isabel said as she walked down the stairs behind Clara.  
“Ah, teacher-thing-day. You'll get along great with the Doctor.”


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

“I would like to speak to Mrs Flint,” said the stern voice on the other end of the telephone, who had introduced herself as Mrs Miller, a secretary at Coal Hill.   
Clara was a little taken aback when she found herself talking to someone who might have been a colleague – in another time, but it soon crossed her mind that it might be about Isabel.  
“I'm sorry. I'm afraid Mrs. Flint is out of town at the moment. This is, uhm, her, her sister. Yes, Clara, uhm, Smith,” she spluttered.   
“Oh, I see. I take it that you're currently with Isabel Flint?”  
“Yes, that's correct. Why? Is she in trouble?” Clara asked.  
“You could say so since she missed out on school today. Again,” the secretary told her.  
“She told me she didn't have school,” she said before she could stop herself.   
“Well, Mrs Smith, I'm afraid you've fallen for one of the oldest tricks. I don't blame you. Isabel is, how do I put it? She gets into trouble easily.”  
“What do you mean? What kind of trouble?”   
“I'm sure your sister told you before she left Isabel in your care,” Mrs Miller said.  
“I'm afraid there was no time. She had to go away on business very urgently. Please, tell me about Isabel. What kind of trouble is she in?”  
“Oh, the usual teenager things. Skipping school, disrupting class. And her grades could be better. She's a bright girl, but she's selling herself short.”  
“I see. I'll have a talk with her about that. I promise it won't happen again,” Clara sighed and hung up.

So, that was the reason Vastra and Jenny had asked them to come. There was no case in America. They didn't have to go anywhere. They were having trouble keeping Isabel under control. They were overwhelmed with parenting a teenage girl with mental powers.  
Clara went downstairs to find the Doctor sitting in the study again.  
“Doctor, we need to talk.”

 

OOO

 

“Ah, I see,” he said when Clara had finished, “Well, I doubt Isabel had a lot of success with Vastra. I think the problem was Jenny and Strax.”  
“Why would you think that?”  
“Because a being like Vastra can't be mentally manipulated. She's like me in a lot of ways.”  
“Basically extinct?” Clara whispered, knowing she would hear a lecture about how superior Time Lords are to human beings.  
“Drop the sarcasm, Clara. Time Lords and Silurians both have mental powers of sorts, human beings don't.”  
“And Sontarans?”  
The Doctor laughed. “You're joking, right? Potatohead and mental abilities? Oh please. No, I think Isabel used her powers on Jenny and Strax to get what she wanted. And she'll attempt to do the same thing with you. But that's completely understandable.”  
“Understandable?” Clara thought she heard him wrong, “In what way is that understandable?”  
“You're the teacher here, Clara. Tell me, if you were a teenager with the ability to manipulate any grown up, would you do it?”  
Clara considered for a moment. When she was a teenager there had been a lot of things she wanted that her dad hadn't allowed.   
“Yes, I suppose.”  
“You have to be careful around Isabel. And we have to earn her trust,” the Doctor said and suddenly started tearing at his own hair, “Ohhh, I hate teenagers. Why? Why did they have to ask us? I'd gladly take on an entire fleet of Dalek ships. Filled with Daleks.”  
“Oh, come on. It won't be that bad,” she tried to reassure him but couldn't stop thinking about the teenagers at her own school. She was lucky to teach the younger classes, some of the older students could be as bas as Daleks.

 

OOO

 

Isabel was taking Sammy for a walk in the nearest park. She could hardly believe how easily Clara had fallen for her “I don't have school”-bit. She was completely aware of the fact that Jenny had pleaded with Vastra to get someone to help them with their “wayward teenager”. The Doctor and Clara had been a surprise, although she couldn't really say if it was a pleasant one or not. She liked the two of them very much. But she hated the fact that the only reason they were here was to straighten her out. She hadn't yet decided whether she was going to play this one nicely or rebel at any cost. Especially since the Doctor's mental powers greatly outweighed her own. If she wasn't careful around him, he would have no problem manipulating her instead of the other way around. He was something like the best guard dog in the world.  
“Isabel Flint,” a voice behind her called her name.

Isabel turned around to find a woman staring at her. She was in her 40s, her outfit a little old fashioned and her hair looked like that of a 19th century governess.   
Isabel tried to read her thoughts but something was blocking them from her.  
“Who are you?” she asked.  
“Call me Cindra,” the woman said. A very unusual name. “But who I am doesn't really matter. What I want is much, much more important.”  
“And what do you want?”  
“We've been watching you since you were born. You have an incredible talent, Isabel. Truly magnificent.”  
“Are you with the aliens that chased me when I was a kid?” Isabel asked, completely sure of the fact that the word “alien” would not be strange to her.  
“Heavens, no. We are in no way affiliated with those. . . brutes. No, we don't want to harm you. We want to help you,” Cindra explained.  
“Thank you, but I don't need your help,” Isabel said and turned away to continue her route through the park.  
“That's true. You don't need it, but you could benefit from it. You see, we run a school for people with all sorts of talents, like you. We locate them all over the universe and try to help create an environment for them where they can truly be themselves. Wouldn't you like that? Be a in a place where you'd be accepted for who you are without having to hide what makes you special?”  
Now Isabel turned back around, eyeing the woman cautiously. “Where's the catch in that?”  
Cindra laughed. “There is no catch. We are a family and we help each other out. But you don't have to decide right away. We've waited for 15 years. We can wait for a while longer. I'll be in touch.”  
When Isabel blinked, the woman was gone.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

“We're doing this together,” Clara said, raising her voice.  
The Doctor laughed. “No, we're not. You want to scold a teenager for doing what every teenager does, go ahead. Be the bad cop.”  
“You're supposed to be helping me, remember?”  
“Hey, it's not my fault that we differ on our views on raising children. But do go ahead. See what happens,” the Doctor said, crossing both of his arms.  
“I'm the teacher here. I know how to handle this.”  
“Oh really? How many children and grand-children do you have? I say we show her there is more to be gained by being nice. And for that we need her to trust us, not despise us.”  
“Says the expert on being nice,” Clara muttered, “Okay, care to make that a bet?”

The Doctor snorted and at exactly the same time the door opened and Isabel and Sammy stepped inside.  
“What's up? It looks like I just interrupted a fight. Should I go?” Isabel asked.  
“No, no, you stay,” said the Doctor, “Clara is about to give you a lecture about skipping school. Typical teacher.”  
Isabel looked confused and her gaze wandered from the Doctor to Clara and back again.  
“And. . . you're not?” she asked carefully.  
“What do I care? It's your education. You're old enough to decide for yourself.”  
“How can you say such a thing?” Clara interrupted him angrily, “She's 15, you can't just. . .”  
She stopped when the Doctor let himself fall in an armchair and winked at Isabel.  
“What's with the wink?” she demanded to know.  
“Oh, nothing. Just my way of telling Isabel that I love to help out.”  
“Help out with what?”  
“Well, now you're scolding me instead of her.”

Clara said nothing and instead turned to Isabel.   
“Why did you lie to me?” she wanted to know.  
Isabel shrugged. “I just. . . “  
“Honest answer, please.”  
“I wanted to see if I could. If it would work,” Isabel said bluntly, “It did. Don't expect it to again, though.”  
“Okay, that's it. Go to your room,” Clara ordered.

Now the Doctor rose from his chair. “I have a much better idea. Why don't we go into this room?” he pointed to his TARDIS.  
Clara gasped and said: “No.”  
Both turned their eyes on her.  
“Why not? We'll be back in a minute and Isabel will still have time to do her homework before dinner. You will make dinner tonight, right?”  
“You're rewarding her for skipping school and that's not how this works.”  
The Doctor turned to Isabel. “As you can see, we differ on our views about raising children. But as I'm the oldest person in this room, my opinion counts. Let's go.”

 

OOO

 

“I see you found your dinner” Clara asked, her voice much softer now as the Doctor entered the room, “You are three hours late.”  
Clara was sitting in front of the fireplace, a blanket around her shoulders and a cup of hot cocoa in her hands. It was already mid-November and it was cold in most rooms of the house.  
“Yeah, sorry about that. Little miscalculation, but Isabel is upstairs now, doing her homework. And dinner was, well. . . it was nice of you to make it,” said the Doctor. He decided to better not point out he disliked it.   
“So, where have you been?”  
“Looked into Vastra's and Jenny's early years,” he admitted, “I thought since we figured Jenny was Isabel's main problem, I would show her some of her cooler sides. Make her seem like someone to look up to. Maybe if Isabel saw her more as a role model . . .”  
Clara started to smile.  
“What?”  
“Nothing. Just, you do know what you're doing. Sometimes,” Clara admitted, “Come on, sit down.”

Reluctantly the Doctor did what Clara had told him to. Clara watched him sit down, leaving enough space for a third person to squeeze in between them. A question came to her mind, one she had been wanting to ask him for a rather long time.  
“Doctor, why don't you like being hugged?”   
He turned around and gave her a look, as if judging whether he should give an answer or not.  
“I'm just not a hugging person now.”  
“As you keep saying. But, why? There must be a reason. I mean, why did the last you love to be hugged and you don't?”  
“I don't know. Regeneration – it's a lottery.”  
“That's a lie,” she said, “You just don't want to talk about it.”  
“Fine, you're right,” he said grumpily, “Happy now?”  
“No, not quite. Tell me,” she demanded, “Help me understand.”

The Doctor sighed. Should he just get it over with and tell her? She would keep asking, he knew it. Clara could be very persistent.   
“Regeneration is a bit like evolution. It learns from the previous regeneration and adapts in the next one.”  
“That doesn't really make sense when it comes to the hugging, though.”  
“Yes, it does. The former me let people get very, very close. And it got him nowhere but hurt. 900 years on Trenzalore, watching everyone around him grow old and die. He never gave up, he always sought their approval, their affection, their love, never realising that no matter how hard he tried to be one of them, they would keep dying and he would always be the one. . . left.”

Clara said nothing. It was something she had never really thought about, that time on Trenzalore. 900 years? She didn't even know how long exactly he had been there. She figured that it must have been quite a while because he had aged. But the greater aspects of those years had never crossed her mind before.

 

OOO

 

“I have news,” said the man in uniform. Cindra turned around to look at him.  
“Well, what is it?”  
“The girl we are watching. We figured out who is with her now.”  
“And who is it besides the woman?”  
“He's a Time Lord.”  
“Oh,” Cindra let out a sound of surprise, “I didn't expect to come across such curiosities. But that makes a quite a bit more interesting now.”  
“Does it?” the man asked, “I thought it would be a problem.”  
“Oh, it can be, yes. But there is much more to be gained now than just a psychic teenager.”


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

 

Clara was beginning to understand him and she wanted to hit herself just a little bit because she hadn't thought about it earlier. 900 years stuck on a foreign planet, fighting a war that he had chosen because he wanted to defend the people that he ended up outliving one by one.   
Her sympathy for him vanished however when she went downstairs and found the TARDIS missing, along with the Doctor and Isabel. She should be in school right now, not travelling the universe while Clara was stuck at home. It maddened her that the Doctor went over her head as soon as he disliked her opinions or wishes. And it was especially frustrating because Vastra had asked them both to watch over Isabel and how were they to straighten her out when they were both fighting over which method to choose?

The familiar sound of the TARDIS interrupted her thoughts when it landed on its usual spot in the conservatory. The Doctor left his blue box only moments later, whistling to himself. His good mood only angered her more.  
“Where the hell have you been?” she demanded to know.  
The Doctor was taken aback by her attack and pondered his answer for a moment.   
“We took a little trip. To a nice little planet I should take you to some day,” he explained, “Why are you mad?”  
“Oh, you picked up on that? I'm mad because I woke up and the two of you were gone without saying anything. You could have at least left a note,” Clara looked around, “Where is Isabel by the way?”  
“In school, where I dropped her off after our little excursion. She protested that she didn't want to go to school so we made a deal, which, by the way, worked.”  
“Doctor, we need to talk about this. Vastra put us both in charge and so far you overruled every decision that I made and that can't go on like that. If you want Isabel to take us seriously, we need to work together.”  
“Why would I want her to take me seriously? I thought the goal was to turn her into a normally functioning human being.”  
“Because she is a teenager and teenagers need supervision, not being abducted by aliens in a blue box,” Clara screamed.  
Before Clara could say anything else, she realized the Doctor was approaching her. If it had been any other man, she would have felt threatened, but the Doctor wouldn't hurt her. And then suddenly, he kissed her. Clara was so surprised, she pushed him away at once.

“What?” the Doctor asked, seeming a little annoyed.  
“What did you do that for?” Clara felt her lips with her fingers, now angrier and more confused than before.  
“I thought you wanted this. Didn't you tell me a few days ago that you wanted things to be like when I was human?” The Doctor clearly had no idea what he had done wrong.  
“Not now,” Clara was frustrated, “How can you think I wanted you to kiss me right now when we are in the middle of an argument?”  
“Well, I don't know. Human emotions are completely irrational.”  
Clara sighed. “We'll talk about this later. I need a shower.”  
“Good idea,” the Doctor called after her. Clara didn't have energy to find an answer to this one.

 

OOO

 

“Bye! See you at 7!” Isabel turned around to a friend once more before she left the school building. When she looked back to the exit, she saw a familiar woman standing there, waiting for her.  
“I'm not interested in your alien school,” she said as she passed her by.   
“Isabel, wait,” the usually stern woman looked friendlier tonight. Less like a teacher, and more like a normal human being. Except that Isabel knew she was not human. “If you say no, you should at least know what you're saying no to.”  
“What are you suggesting?” Isabel asked cautiously, eyeing Cindra.  
“I suggest we take a look together. Tomorrow after school. What do you think about it?”  
When Isabel didn't answer, the woman continued. “I have a teleporting device that could take us both to the school and back in a matter of seconds. You look around for as long as you want and if you don't like it, I'll take you back and never bother you again. Deal?”  
Isabel was reluctant. “I'll think about it.”  
The woman smiled. “You do that. My offer stands. A talent like yours should not be wasted in a facility like this,” she pointed at Coal Hill. 

 

OOO

 

When Clara heard the door open, she jumped into the corridor and greeted Isabel with a warm smile.  
“Hey, how was school?” she asked.  
Isabel shrugged. “You're not mad anymore?”  
“Not at you, don't worry. I made tea and sandwiches if you're hungry,” Clara said as she lead the young girl into the kitchen. She looked at her and hardly recognized the child she had once treated as her own in the 60s.   
“I wanted to ask you something,” Clara started, “Did we make the right decision for you?”  
Isabel looked up from her sandwich.  
“In making you stay with Vastra and Jenny?”  
“I would have preferred to stay with you and the Doctor, travelling in the TARDIS:”  
Clara watched how her eyes sparkled when she said the word TARDIS. Isabel really liked travelling with the Doctor. And how could she not?  
“The TARDIS is no place for a kid. At least not permanently. It's dangerous more often than it's not. And the Doctor, well. . . I don't know if he'd have made a great father figure. I hope you understand that?”  
Isabel ignored her last question. “I like him. He's the only one who doesn't treat me like a child.”

Clara said nothing. There was a lot she could have said, about how Isabel would wish in a few years that someone could still take the weight of adulthood from her shoulders, about how she should enjoy those years, but Isabel wouldn't believe her. Teenagers rarely did.  
“Can I ask you a question?” Isabel asked in return.  
“Sure.”  
“I wanted to meet with some friends tonight. Just for a little while. Can I go?”  
“But it's a school night,” Clara answered, on the verge of saying no immediately.  
She felt an odd tingling in her head, before she heard herself say. “Well, of course you can. You're 15. Just don't stay out too late, okay?”


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

“I am a genius!”, Clara heard the Doctor shout from the kitchen. She was reluctant to check on him because that sentence could mean he was either doing something that to her seemed like complete idiocy or dangerous. But when the sweet smell of warm food entered her nose, she decided to have a look.  
“You're cooking,” she commented from a safe distance.  
“Yes, I am cooking,” he turned around to smile at her, waving a spatula.  
“And how exactly does that make you a genius?” Clara asked carefully.  
“Because it's delicious. Here, have a bite!”

When Clara approached him, she eyed his cooking skills sceptically.  
“Doctor, why are you tearing the pancakes apart?”  
“Because they are not pancakes. That is Kaiserschmarrn,” he explained to her.  
“I'm sorry, I don't speak German. How's that not a torn pancake?”  
“Well, technically it is a torn pancake, but after an Austrian recipe. It is usually ripped apart while still in the frying pan.”  
“And were you, under any circumstances, present when they decided to start ripping pancakes apart in the frying pan?” Clara asked carefully.  
“As a matter of fact, I was. Now, try this,” the Doctor picked up several pieces with a fork and lifted it to Clara's mouth, “Careful, it's still hot.”  
“Wow, it really is good,” she said, still chewing.   
“Maybe Isabel can help you set the table,” the Doctor suggested.

It took Clara a while to take her eyes off the Doctor. Where did this sudden domesticity come from? Was he feeling bad about their fights or about suddenly kissing her earlier? But feeling bad didn't really seem to fit the Doctor's character either. Then Isabel came back to her mind.  
“Isabel isn't home. She's gone out with some friends, but we can save her a bit of your. . . Austrian thing,” she replied.  
“Gone out with friends?” the Doctor asked.  
“Yes.”  
“And you allowed her?”  
“Yes, why?”  
The Doctor shrugged. “Well, it's a school night and judging from our latest disagreements, it doesn't really seem like the type of thing you'd do.”  
“You're right,” Clara said absent-mindedly. Now that she thought about it, why had she allowed Isabel to go out? She couldn't think of a sane reason to do so. But she remembered the words coming out of her mouth.   
“I think dear little Isabel played a little trick on you,” the Doctor explained.   
“But I didn't even notice,” Clara said, still thinking about the moment she had given Isabel permission.  
“Well, wouldn't be much of a trick if you could notice it, would it?”

 

“What do we do now?” Clara asked earnestly while they were both sitting at the dinner table, “With Isabel, I mean. How could I possibly get through to her if she thinks so little of me that she can just manipulate me without even blinking?”  
“I'm afraid you're just going to have to trust me on this,” said the Doctor, “She doesn't seem to be having a problem with me.”  
“Yes, because you're the magical uncle from space. You're like a superhero. Of course she has no problem with that.”  
“A superhero? Really?” A smile spread across the Doctor's face.   
“You know what I mean,” Clara smiled back, “She's never really seen your bad sides.”  
The Doctor's face grew stern again. Clara knew instantly she shouldn't have mentioned his bad sides, but she was being honest. And she could never know what was going on inside his head. It was like every time she thought she had figured him out, he changed and became unpredictable for her again. He could be sweet and making her dinner, but she could never be sure what he would say next.

“Clara,” the Doctor put down his fork and stared at her, “Do you want to have sex with me?”  
And here's number one on the list of things I never expected from the Doctor, Clara thought. She was too baffled to answer for a moment. She wasn't even sure whether it was a serious question or a trick or a test or whatever crazy stuff he'd pulled on her in their time together. First the unexpected kiss, now this.   
“Uhm, just to make sure I heard you correctly. . .”  
“I was asking if you wanted to have sex with me,” he repeated and this time sounded as if it was an actual, serious question.  
“I, uhm, I. . .” she stammered.   
“It's not like we haven't done it before. Okay, I wasn't exactly in my right state of mind, but the body is the same. It should function just as before, even better, you see, since Time Lords have a certain advantage on the. . .”  
“Stop!”, Clara interrupted him before he could get into detail. She couldn't listen to this. It was too bizarre.  
“Did I do something wrong?” he stared at her and looked almost disappointed. Clara knew he didn't mean it in a bad way, it was just who he was.   
“I can't deal with this right now, I'm sorry. Thank your for making dinner. That was really thoughtful of you,” Clara excused herself and got up.  
“Where are you going?”  
“To bed. I'm sorry. Today was just a little too much.”


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Clara opened her eyes slowly, glancing at the alarm clock next to her bed. Damn! She had overslept! She jumped out of bed, ignoring the dizziness from getting up too fast and ran to Isabel's room. She had to wake her, make breakfast and make sure she got to school on time. Clara knocked on the door, but there was no answer.  
“Come on, Isabel. Time for school!”  
“Good morning,” the Doctor's voice greeted her from the other end of the corridor. He seemed calm, which didn't fit Clara's current mood at all, “Don't worry. I already dropped Isabel off. Breakfast is also ready.”  
“Okay,” she eyed him suspiciously as she walked past him and down the stairs.

Clara couldn't help but marvel at the Doctor's change in demeanour. At first he had been very adamant to leave at once, refusing to help Vastra and Jenny. Now he was best pals with Isabel, even getting along better with her than Clara did. She would have never admitted it in front of him, but the Doctor was rather skilled at babysitting a wayward teenager. But what confused her most of all was his behaviour towards her. Sure, she had expressed her feelings for him before they had arrived here, she had told him she wanted him to be nice to her, show her that he liked her, too. Yet the Doctor acted in such an odd way that Clara couldn't be sure whether he really meant it. The unexpected kiss, last night's question. The last thing she wanted was bringing it back up. She wasn't keen on explaining to the Doctor why it had completely baffled her and by no means did she want to answer it. But she had to know. . .  
“Doctor,” she said as they were about to start breakfast, “What's your agenda?”  
He looked up from his croissant. “I beg your pardon?”  
“Why are you being so nice?”  
“I thought it was what you wanted of me, being nice. Also living like a human being is kind of boring, I need a hobby.”  
Clara regretted asking immediately. How did she even expect any good to come of it? He was the Doctor. He was this odd, alien being who viewed this as a nice diversion and nothing more. She could have slapped herself for even thinking for a second it had something to do with her. As much as she wanted him to be like John Smith again, it was about time to realize that that man was gone and the Doctor would never change. 

“You know, I've been thinking about you and Isabel,” he continued, “I think you should try to bond on a more casual level.”  
“Mh-mh,” she uttered and took a bite off the croissant.  
“You should pick her up after school and take her for a coffee, maybe even shopping. You women love to do that, right?”  
Clara laughed. “I don't think I brought enough money to take her shopping.”  
“It'll be my treat. You two go crazy,” he threw his sonic screwdriver at her, which Clara caught at the last instant, “Just sonic an ATM.”  
“That's technically stealing,” Clara countered.   
“Tell that to Isabel. She'll love it,” the Doctor winked at her.

 

OOO

The school ground was filled with parents, ready to pick up their children, when Clara arrived. Her school hadn't changed much since the 70s and it was odd coming here and not go inside to teach. The bell hadn't rung yet and Clara figured it would still be a couple of minutes before Isabel would come out.   
“You're new,” a man of Clara's age had suddenly joined her in front of the school ground and smiled at her.  
“You're right,” Clara's eyes examined the man who had approached her and decided she could just as well kill the time with small talk, “How did you know?”  
“Well, I've been picking up my daughter every day for the past few years. You get to know the faces. I take it your child goes to school here now?”  
“Not exactly. I'm babysitting for a friend who's gone out of town for business, although babysitting is not quite the right word. Isabel is 15. I'm gonna take her shopping today,” Clara answered.   
“Uh, 15. I'm actually dreading that age. Anna, that's her name, is 10 now. Quite the sweet kid, but she can be feisty when the mood strikes. I'm Randall by the way,” he offered his hand, which Clara shook immediately.  
“Clara,” she replied. She was about to add “Smith” to her first name, since it was her cover identity after all, but decided to not mention it at all.   
“And your husband, is he around, too? I'd like to meet him,” Clara watched Randall's gaze wander around, but she had seen this behaviour so often, it was obvious he was not really looking for her husband, or boyfriend, but wanted her to tell him she was available.  
“I'm not married. How about your wife?” Clara decided to jump into the game, even if it was just for fun.  
“Ah, the wife-question. She left when Anna was four. I don't miss her, to be honest, but the older Anna gets, the more complicated it is for me to play both mother and father. There are some questions ahead of us and I'm not keen on giving the answers.”  
Randall smiled sheepishly. Clara heard the school bell ring from a distance.   
“Listen,” he said as Clara wanted to move ahead to pick up Isabel, “Do you want to get coffee some time?”  
Clara turned around and saw Isabel in a group of girls. She really wanted to leave now. Randall was cute and obviously a very nice guy, but how was she supposed to tell him that in 1975 she hadn't even been born?  
“Randall, I'm sorry. I think you're nice and I'm sure there is a woman out there who would love to be your girlfriend and Anna's stepmother, but I'm not this woman. I won't be staying here for very long, weeks, maybe a month or two. Also I'm kind of seeing someone,” Clara explained nervously. She looked over to the group of girls, but couldn't spot Isabel any more.  
Randall laughed. “Calm down, Clara. I wasn't asking to marry you on the spot. I just want to take you for a coffee, that's all. No strings attached. And if the man you're kind of seeing is against a simple coffee with a man who could really use some female insight on how to raise his daughter, maybe you shouldn't be seeing him.”  
Clara frowned at him, a slight smile forming in the corner of her mouth. Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea after all. He was nice, he seemed as if he could really use some female advice and she would get a free coffee.   
“You know what, why not?”

Randall suggested to meet at noon the following day, in a small diner close to the school and Clara agreed that she would be there. After they had said goodbye, Clara turned around to look for Isabel, but she was nowhere to be seen.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

 

“And this,” said Cindra, pointing towards the building in front of them, “Is the The School.”  
“The School? It doesn't have a name?” Isabel asked, disbelief audible in her voice.  
“It doesn't need a name. It's the greatest school in the universe.”  
Isabel stared at the building and had to admit that it indeed looked great. She was sure to have seen the kind of architecture before, it definitely seemed earthly, although the surroundings really weren't. The planet's climate was a bit cooler than that of earth, but not cold. The surface, though covered in a grass-like substance, had a rusty colour to it. There were no trees or even bushes. Just grass, looking like iron that had been left out in the rain for too long.  
“For our school we built a replica of Hampton Court Palace, with a few modifications of course,” Cindra explained.  
So that was why it had seemed familiar to Isabel. She remembered visiting that place with Jenny years ago.  
“Seems an odd choice,” Isabel remarked, “Amongst all the buildings in the universe you could have copied.”  
“Well, it fits our needs for a school. And most of the students are not from earth, so it does have an alien look to it for most of them. Also the colour pattern fits.”

Cindra led Isabel inside, through endless corridors made of red stone. She was feeling like she had just entered a magical place.  
“What do you teach people here?” Isabel found herself asking. She hadn't really been keen on seeing this place, being sure she wouldn't want to go. But now that she was here, it did have a certain charm to it.  
“All sorts of things, depending on the talent of the individual, “Cindra told her, “Since you belong to the psychic category, you would be taught how to control and use your powers thoroughly, practice them, maybe even discover hidden talents you never knew you had. We have several teachers who are experts in this specific field. Also you would undergo a basic training in self defence and the operation of different space crafts currently at our disposal.”  
Isabel caught Cindra looking at her, as if expecting to make her decision right away. But she was not ready yet. She had to admit that it all sounded amazing and very tempting, but a part of her was still looking for a catch.   
“I want to see the classes,” Isabel demanded.   
Cindra smiled. “As you wish. Right here behind this door is where we teach young women and men of your own age different techniques of self defence. Does that interest you?”  
Isabel nodded and was lead into a room that didn't fit at all into the renaissance exterior. The room looked like a futuristic gym, equipped with everything even remotely related to sports. They hadn't stopped at weapons, although they seemed to have everything of that, too, but she could also make out basketball hoops and goals probably meant for soccer and hockey.   
The students, a group of maybe a dozen teenagers, some of them indeed alien looking, were practising what looked like kung fu or another Asian martial art. And Isabel had to admit that they were all pretty good at it. She would probably get a good beating at first should she decided to join this school. An older woman, who was likely to be the teacher, spotted them both and made an approach.  
“New student?” she asked Cindra. Her tone of voice was matter-of-factly, but Isabel could make out a hint of curiosity in it as well.  
“Considering,” Isabel answered in Cindra's place.   
“What's your power?” the gym teacher asked.  
“Psychic, although it doesn't quite seem to be working here,” she admitted.  
Cindra laughed. “That's because every teacher has to absolve a psychic training. It is absolutely necessary when dealing with children like you. Not all of them use their powers on their wards simply to skip school.”  
Isabel wondered what that could mean, but Cindra went on explaining.  
“We are often the last hope of a troubled kid or teenager, young people who have been in real trouble and have nowhere else to go. We pick them up from the streets, some even from jail. It's not always easy, but we're trying to bring structure back into their lives.”  
“I see,” Isabel answered.   
“Have you shown her the sleeping quarters already?” the gym teacher said.  
“We are on our way to them,” Cindra explained and led Isabel out of the gym and back into the corridor.

As they walked to the dorms, another question came to her mind.  
“What do people do when they've finished their. . . education?” she wanted to know.  
“Oh, all sorts of things. Some of the stay and become teachers, others stay here to live, but work elsewhere. Most are hired all over the universe for specific tasks according to their talents. Let's say a bank gets robbed and the people in charge are making sure it never happens again, they would definitely hire someone like you, to read people in order to catch the next one before he does any harm. There are so many possibilities our there for you, Isabel, you can't even imagine.”

The dormitories were located in the east wing of the building, separated into gender and age. Isabel had the change to take a peek into several cosy two to 4-bed-rooms, all of which looked rather nice.   
“I don't need an answer right away,” Cindra said earnestly, “We don't want to push you. We want you in this school, but it should be your own decision.”  
“How long do I have?” she asked.  
“Technically, you can take as much time as you like, but as you can see, the school is rather quiet at the moment. Many students are on holiday right now. A few, those who are still on good terms with their families, are visiting them. Some skilled students are already taking on assignments which they fulfil during the holidays. And some just roam the galaxy for new experiences. The new term starts in four weeks. If you want to begin your training together with other new arrivals, you should make up your mind by then.”  
Isabel nodded.   
“And then, there's the question of the entrance fee,” Cindra continued.   
“What entrance fee?” Isabel was suspicious. Was that the catch she had been waiting for?  
“Not now, my dear. You should be 100% sure about joining us before we go into details.”

 

OOO

 

Clara had been waiting for almost half an hour when Isabel finally emerged from the school building.   
“Hey, where have you been?” Clara asked, worried, “I thought I saw you outside 30 minutes ago.”  
“I'm sorry. I'd forgotten a book and needed to find the teacher to unlock the room for me. What are you doing here?”  
“I thought we should treat ourselves to a good lunch and maybe go shopping afterwards. What do you think about some new clothes?” Clara asked joyfully.  
“Okay,” was Isabel's only reply.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

 

“Shopping went quite well,” Clara announced as she joined the Doctor in the conservatory.  
“Did it?” the Doctor looked up from his book, “That's nice to hear.”  
“But I don't think she's too fond of me. Isabel is so distant, it's like she hardly notices I'm there at all,” she said. And Clara could only imagine why that was. Sure, they hadn't been off to a great start, but Clara could feel that there was more to it. 

“By the way, I won't be home for lunch tomorrow. I'm meeting with another parent.”  
Now the Doctor put his book away for good and gave her a long, judging look.  
“Is it a male parent?” he asked, still staring.  
“As a matter of fact, yes,” Clara said. Suddenly she got the feeling as if she needed to defend her actions. And she hated it.  
“I'm coming with you,” said the Doctor and his voice left no room for contradiction.  
“No, you're not.”  
“Why not?” the Doctor wanted to know.  
“Because you're you. I want to have an actual conversation for once,” Clara absolutely disliked where this was going, but she couldn't stop herself.  
“Well, you could have a conversation with me, that would be a start,” the Doctor suggested, getting up from his chair.  
“We talk all the time and look where it's always getting us. We fight. I'm meeting with Randall tomorrow. Alone. Whether you like it or not.”  
“I don't like it. And what kind of name is that supposed to be? Randall?” the Doctor said it in a mocking tone, “For all you know he could be dangerous.”  
“Or you could be just jealous, because it sounds one hell of a lot like it,” Clara replied in an accusatory voice.   
“Pf, I'm not jealous. Why would I be jealous of some human guy with a kid?”  
“Well, I don't know. But you sound like it and you have absolutely no right to be,” Clara was determined. He had no right, hadn't he? It wasn't like they were still in a relationship. She could go for a coffee with as many men as she liked. She could even date them.   
“If you say so. Go ahead, go out with him. If he turns out to be a menacing alien, don't come crying to me. See if I care,” the Doctor said, grabbing his book and vanishing into the TARDIS.   
For a moment Clara considered running after him to continue their argument, but she decided to better leave it. Their arguments would continue one way or another. Living together, with no real chance of escaping each other, was a trigger to their already fragile friendship and it would never get better. Not with the Doctor being the Doctor. It seemed as if nowadays there was simply no end to his odd behaviour. 

 

OOO

The diner wasn't too crowded for the time of day and Randall held out a chair close to the window for Clara to sit down. On the way to their coffee date Clara had considered to turn around and walk back to the house several times. The fight she had had with the Doctor the day before just wouldn't leave her alone. She didn't think for a second that Randall could be an alien or even dangerous in any way. He was just Randall, a completely normal guy with a kid. That wasn't the reason Clara had considered not seeing him at all. It was the Doctor's reaction. He was very possessive of her, or jealous, she couldn't know which one of these emotions were going through the Doctor's queer head. But she decided that under no circumstances should they influence Clara's decisions. She was a free woman after all.  
“So, how was your shopping day with the teenager? I'm sorry, I have forgotten her name.”  
“It's Isabel, and it was quite alright. Though we're not exactly best friends. It was a weak attempt to bond,” Clara explained, “How is Anna doing?”  
“Pretty well. She likes school, loves it even. She gets good grades,” Randall said.  
“Doesn't sound like a troubled kid to me at all. And I should know. I'm a teacher.”  
“Really? Where do you teach?” he asked curiously.  
Clara pondered her answer for a moment. In 2014 didn't seem like the right way to reply. “Just a school in a small town near Gloucester. You wouldn't know it,” that seemed like a save bet.   
“You're right. Never been there. Is it nice?”  
“Mh-mh,” Clara nodded. She didn't really care to get into detail, cause her lie would collapse like a house of cards as soon as she was asked to describe the landscape.  
“And the man you're kind of seeing, does he live there, too?” Randall kept asking.  
“He, uhm, travels a lot. But visits me often, yeah. Right now he's here in London with me to take care of Isabel.”  
Sudden Randall seemed disappointed.  
“That's too bad. I was kind of hoping we could maybe meet again. For dinner.”  
“I thought you said there were no strings attached,” Clara said, finally taking a sip of her coffee.  
“A man can dream,” he said, “I have to be honest, Clara. You just caught my eye. You're different from every other woman I have met so far. I'd be a fool not to at least give it a try.”  
That's because I'm from the future, Clara thought, of course I'm different.  
She sighed. It was a waste of his time and she knew it. As soon as Vastra and Jenny would return, she would also return – to her own time, in which Randall was probably almost 70 years old, having grandchildren, maybe even great-grandchildren. She shouldn't agree to go out with him, and yet this proposal had awoken the rebel in her. The Doctor would absolutely hate it and at the moment she was so mad at him, she would do about anything to tick him off. And Randell seemed like a very nice guy, they would probably have a great time together.  
“I will go out with you,” Clara said finally, “But you have to accept that it will be no more than just dinner. As I've said before, I won't be staying forever and I'm not looking to be anyone's wife and stepmother.”  
“I can accept that it's your current opinion, but do not blame me for trying to change it, okay?” Randall gave her a big smile.

 

OOO

 

Clara thought about it all the way home. She realized she would probably have very much enjoyed Randall's advances in her own time. He was a gentleman, but she was not looking for another romance that was so doomed to fail from the beginning. She would not let herself fall for him, that was for sure, but she could really use the attention. Her last relationship with John Smith had left her heartbroken, no matter how good she was at hiding it. For a long time she had clung to the fantasy that the Doctor still had feelings for her similar to those of John Smith, but she had woken up from that dream. It was time for a diversion, a new flirt. Randall seemed like the guy for the job.

When she opened the door to the Victorian building, she could hear music coming from the conservatory. Monday Monday was bringing back some memories she had desperately tried to forget.  
“How was your date?” the Doctor asked. He was sitting on his chair, listening to the song she was starting to loathe.   
“It was. . . okay. He's nice. Definitely not an alien. He wants to take me for dinner tomorrow,” Clara answered matter-of-factly. She was waiting for the Doctor's reaction. One that never came.   
Instead, he got up from his chair and extended his hand to her.  
“Care to dance?” he asked her.  
Clara took a step back and watched the Doctor closely. He was standing in front of her in his favourite suit, his hand awaiting hers. The song was starting to get too loud to hear her own thoughts clearly. She saw him, but she couldn't take him seriously. This was not the Doctor. This was something John Smith would have done, but not him.  
“Is this some kind of joke?” she asked carefully.  
The Doctor let his hand sink. “Why would you think that? I was just asking if you wanted to dance. Again, I was only doing what I thought you wanted,” he said, his voice defensive.   
“Well, you were obviously wrong,” Clara raised her voice.  
“Yeah, I can see that. Your face has gone all wrong. What's with the face?” he asked.  
“I'm hurt, okay? Hurt. I'm not sure if you're familiar with that feeling, but this,” she pointed to the source of the music, hardly able to fight back the tears all of a sudden, “This hurts. And you seem to be doing it on purpose.”  
“I don't understand,” the Doctor said bluntly.   
“Obviously, otherwise you wouldn't be torturing me with memories of John Smith when it is crystal clear that that man is gone forever!”

Clara couldn't hold the tears in any longer. She stormed off into her room, slamming the door shut behind her. Of all the things the Doctor could have done, bringing back this song, bringing back the memories of the night she had first kissed him, was probably the worst.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

 

Clara was dreading to leave her bedroom the following morning. Part of her was hoping that the Doctor had gone away with Isabel and she could just sneak out, get breakfast and hide again. After the anger of last night had passed away, she was starting to understand. Of course, she had asked the Doctor to be nicer to her, to show that he liked her and last night had probably been his way of showing her. But it was too much, it was the wrong kind of being nice. He was trying to bring back John Smith, the man she had loved, the man that had simply ceased to exist. Just when she was starting to get over him, the Doctor had tried to bring him back and Clara now knew that things would never be like that ever again. The Doctor didn't love her the way John Smith had. He would never want her in that way. It was about time to look into other directions, and one of those directions being Randall.  
After gathering all her courage, Clara went downstairs and found the Doctor already waiting for her in the dining room, where he had prepared a delicious looking breakfast. Unfortunately, Clara suddenly didn't feel hungry any more.  
“Good morning,” Clara said, still a little shy.  
The Doctor nodded towards her and shifted his weight from one foot to another. He was nervous, probably feeling guilty.  
“I wanted to apologize for last night,” he began, “Bringing back that song was not a good move.”  
“You're absolutely right. It wasn't,” Clara simply said.  
“I thought I was doing what you wanted me to do. Before we came here, in the TARDIS, you said you wanted me to show you that I like you.”  
“I get it,” she answered, “But pretending to be him, pretending to be John Smith, even after telling me it would never be like this again, it was just cruel.”  
Clara turned away from the Doctor. She didn't really want to look him in the eyes while saying the things she was about to say.  
“I didn't mean to be cruel, Clara. Please, believe me. And about last night . . .”  
“I've been thinking about that conversation, too,” Clara interrupted him. She turned back around to face the Doctor. “I changed my mind. I don't want to be in a relationship with you.”  
The Doctor's face was blank, unreadable to her. So she just continued. “Actually, I can't be in a relationship with you. Not while you're being like you are. It's just too much.”  
He frowned. “So you want me to change? Is that it? Change, so I fit into your happy human relationship pattern? Clara, I'm sorry, I can't do that and you know it.”  
“I don't want you to change.”  
“Then what do you want?” the Doctor asked angrily, “What is it that would please you?”  
“I don't know, okay?” she screamed at him, “But certainly not this. Don't you see I'm trying to take the pressure off here? You didn't really want a relationship with me to begin with. So, now we can go back to the way it was. Just you and me, travelling the universe, occasionally babysitting Isabel. You don't have to pretend to like me. Just be you.”  
“So, you're breaking up with me?” the Doctor just stared at her.  
Clara started to laugh. “For me to break up with you, there first would have to be a relationship.”

When the Doctor's face didn't change, but remained a calm, sinister mask, it suddenly began to dawn on her.  
“Wait, no. No, no, no,” the Doctor made an attempt to leave the room, but Clara followed him, “You're not saying you actually considered this a relationship?”  
“What do you want me to say, Clara? I'm an alien who travels time and space in a blue box and you just told me you don't want to be with me.”  
“I was just asking . . .” she started, but he interrupted her brutally.  
“Well, stop asking then and get lost,” the bellowed at her. When she didn't move, he shoved her out of the room.

 

OOO

 

They hadn't spoken for the rest of the day and Clara wasn't sure how long their silence would last. One thing she was absolutely sure of was that she had misread every single sign he had given her. The kiss, the oddly placed question, the song – he hadn't done it for her. Well, not exactly. She had made her intentions clear before they had arrived in London and he, though a bit slow in processing it, had acted on her wish and tried to show her that he indeed liked her. But the Doctor was the Doctor, and he was odd. He probably hadn't known any other way. What had shocked her most of all was that apparently he had been assuming that they had been in a relationship ever since the 60s, something that hadn't even crossed her mind. And how could it have? He had never shown the slightest interest in her until she had asked him too.   
What Clara absolutely didn't know was how she was going to fix it, and whether she even wanted to. It always turned out to be so hard once all hope had been lost. And she had already given up the hope that there could ever be anything more between her and her Doctor.

But now she was sitting in a restaurant, ready for her date with Randall. And Randall was late. After 15 minutes Clara had considered leaving, really not sure whether she should add more confusion to her current situation, when the man finally showed up.  
“I'm sorry, Clara, traffic was awful,” he apologized and sat down in front of her.   
He had dressed up to meet her, wearing a suit, but as much as Clara liked well dressed men, it didn't have the same effect on Randall.  
“It's okay.”  
“Is something wrong?” he asked, “You seem sad.”  
“I had an annoying day. That's all.”  
“Because of the other guy?”  
“I really don't want to talk about him right now. I'm sorry, you really picked the wrong day for a date with me,” Clara said, but without really meaning it. She doubted that tomorrow or the day after it would have been much different. She had come here for all the wrong reasons.  
“That's okay. Maybe I can make your evening a little bit better,” Randall said and reached for her hand. Clara was inclined to pull hers away, but decided against it. She could really use some comfort right now.

As the evening went on, Randall talked about his child and how well behaved she was, about his gruesome ex-wife, his house and his new car and Clara realized more with every passing minute how boring that man really was. It was natural she had caught his eye on the school ground. Clara was a beautiful young woman, no point in denying that. And Randall was looking for exactly that. A beautiful woman to put into his beautiful house. With every new topic he picked, Clara despised him more and mentally scolded herself for not realizing how shallow he was from the beginning. All she wanted was to be home, with the Doctor. She didn't even care if she wanted to be there as his lover or his friend. She just wanted to be far, far away from Randall.

“Randall, I'm sorry,” Clara finally said, “I think I should go home now. I'm tired.”  
“That's a shame,” he replied, “But you don't have to go home. You can stay at my place, if you want to. I have the most beautiful guest room.”  
Clara knew that as soon as she arrived at his place, Randall would do everything to convince her to not sleep in the guest bedroom.  
“I'd really prefer my own bed.”  
“But if the other guy has upset you so much, maybe you should stay away, just for one night. I insist.”  
“Well, if you insist. But I need to powder my nose first,” Clara said and got up to find the bathroom. 

There was no way in hell she would be going home with that man. As soon as she had locked herself into one of the bathroom stalls, she pulled her cellphone from her purse and dialled the TARDIS phone number.  
“Please, please, pick up,” she said to herself and finally heard the encouraging click on the other end, “Doctor, please, help me. I need you to pick me up.”  
And now she was only hoping the Doctor wasn't so mad at her as to abandon her on the most horrible date in history.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

 

Clara knew something was wrong when she heard shouting and all different kinds of noises coming from the restaurant. Carefully she opened the door just a crack to take a look – and saw the Doctor. Her Doctor! Standing in front of Randall, quite towering over him. Shouting at him.  
“What do you even think you're doing?” the Doctor yelled at Randall.  
“I was taking Clara for a date. One to which, by the way, she had said yes,” he defended himself.  
“Well, that's too damn bad because I'm not sharing,” the Doctor announced.   
“Whoever said she wants to be with you?” Randall demanded. Clara noticed he was standing on tiptoes to match the Doctor's height, “You look like her grandfather, not her boyfriend.”  
“Alright, that's it,” the Doctor answered angrily, “Let's ask Clara. Cause, you know, she just phoned me from the bathroom, asking me to rescue her from her date. With you.”  
Clara could see a lot of questions forming in Randall's mind, one of them being: she just went in there two minutes ago, how could he be here so fast?  
Before things got any more unpleasant, Clara decided to leave her hiding place and confront the two of them.  
“Oh, Clara, how nice of you to join us. Would you please explain to this man that I'm now taking you home because I think he's an idiot and doesn't seem to get it,” the Doctor turned around to face her.   
So he had come. Immediately. Clara hadn't been entirely sure, but he was here now. Everything would turn out fine.  
“I'm sorry, Randall. This date was a stupid idea,” she explained, trying to be as nice as possible, “I don't belong here. It wouldn't have worked out between us anyway.”  
“Well, you heard the girl. Come on, Clara, let's go home,” he took her hand and started to drag her out of the restaurant.

The TARDIS was parked in front of the restaurant and Clara could see Randall watching the two of them get inside. She wondered what he would think as soon as he saw the blue box vanish, but the Doctor left her no time to truly think about it. He was already starting the engines.  
“Thank you,” Clara said earnestly and let out a sigh of relief, “I hadn't realized how boring that man really was.”  
“Don't mention it,” the Doctor said icily, “But if this sort of thing happens again, don't count on me.”  
She was taken aback by the Doctor's cold demeanour. Happen again? He was expecting her to go out on dates again with the result of needing rescue? That was like the complete opposite of what he had told her this morning.  
“Doctor?” she asked carefully, but there was no answer.  
He was busy flicking switches and a few moments later the engines shut off. The Doctor snapped his fingers and the TARDIS door opened.  
“We're home. You can leave now,” he announced, not looking up from the console unit.  
“Aren't you coming?”  
“Maybe later.”  
Clara remained silent for a while, trying to find the right words to say to him. She wanted to thank him, but she already had.   
“The things you said to Randall. . .,” she started.  
“They got you out of your date. Now, leave it alone, Clara.”

 

OOO

 

Clara waited in front of the TARDIS for over an hour. Eventually she gave up and realized the Doctor would not be coming out of that thing any time soon. What had she even planned on doing, or saying? She didn't even know what exactly it was that she wanted. Not Randall, that was for sure. But she had said to the Doctor that she had changed her mind and did not want to be in a relationship with him any more – and at that point, she had truly meant it. Yet, that was before Clara had known what the Doctor was really feeling for her.   
She wasn't sure if that was going to change anything. He was still the Doctor and his advances had been odd, to say the least. Clara knew she would have to sleep over it.

 

OOO

 

Isabel had been waiting for Clara to finally leave the room. The Doctor had promised her a trip, since it was Saturday night and every young girl should be doing something extraordinary on a Saturday night. At least, that's what the Doctor had said. Isabel wasn't sure why exactly she had been hiding from Clara. The Doctor had invited her, so why would she possibly forbid it when it wasn't even a school night? But Clara could be kind of a killjoy.   
Isabel knocked on the TARDIS door. A voice from the inside groaned and said “Go away, Clara.”  
“It's me, Isabel!”   
A few seconds later the door opened and the Doctor peered out. “Well, that's a different matter. Come on in.”  
“What happened between you and Clara?” Isabel asked as soon as she was inside and had closed the door. She was indeed curious about it. She had caught glimpses of their fights, but she had the feeling that most of it took place while she was in school. Sometimes she even wondered why the Doctor had picked Clara above all other human women.  
“If you want that trip I promised you, you better forget about that question,” the Doctor threatened her and gave Isabel an angry look.  
Isabel shrugged. “Okay, different question. When are you going to invite me to travel with you?”  
“I though we were already travelling.”  
“That's not what I meant,” Isabel said. The Doctor tried to look into her eyes, but she avoided it, “You've got all these empty rooms in the TARDIS. I was wondering if I could have one of them.”  
“What would you need a room for?” he asked, dumbfounded.  
“I don't want to stay here. I want to travel with you, see the universe, and never come back. I don't belong on Earth. Everyone here is just. . . stupid.” Isabel said, staring at her feet.  
“Well, that's because they're all pudding brains,” the Doctor laughed at her, but Isabel's expression stayed serious.  
“See, I knew you would understand. So, please, please, just take me with you.”  
“That's not possible.”  
“Why not? I knew you couldn't take me with you when I was a kid, but I'm a grown up now. I won't be in your way, I promise.”  
The Doctor sneered. “So, you're a grown up? On Gallifrey you were still considered a youngling when you were 200. And the thing about companions is: they always get in the way.”  
“What do I have to do?” Isabel suddenly started screaming, “What do I have to do that you will want to take me with you?”  
“Well, you can get the hell out of my TARDIS. That would be a start!” the Doctor shouted back at her. And a few seconds later the door slammed shut.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Clara got up early in the morning. She knew that whatever would happen next between her and her Doctor, it was up to her. It was her decision. And this time she really had to make an effort.

“What is this?” the Doctor asked, visibly confused, as he stepped out of his TARDIS about an hour later.  
“Breakfast,” Clara, who was sitting at the table, replied, “I wanted to make your favourite, but I don't know what that is.”  
“I like everything,” he stated. His behaviour towards her was still cold, but Clara could see his eyes wander over the food. He liked her idea.

When they had both stared at their breakfast for a few moments, Clara invited him to sit down. He did so only reluctantly.  
“I thought we could talk over breakfast. I wanted to apologize. I've been stupid. I really didn't get what you were trying to tell me and I want to make up for it,” Clara blurted out. She was so eager to get those words off her chest that she hadn't even made sure the Doctor was following her.   
The Doctor took a bite off the croissant and started to look at her. “I'm sorry, you were saying?”  
Clara sighed. “I was apologizing,” she said, an accusatory tone in her voice. Why was it that in precisely this moment, when she was making a heartfelt attempt at an apology, he chose not to listen?  
“Oh, that's good,” He nodded towards her. Clara wanted to continue, but the Doctor cut her off, “You know, I think Isabel rebelled on purpose, so we would come back and try to help.”  
Why? Why was his mind on Isabel when there were more important matters to discuss? Clara knew that Isabel was more important, she knew they were only here because of her, to take care of the teenager. But at this moment, all she wanted was to make things right with her Doctor.  
“Why do you think that?” Clara asked, eager to get on with their original conversation.  
“Well, she practically told me. She wants me to take her with me. In the TARDIS,” he explained, dissecting his breakfast with his fingers while speaking.  
“And are you going to do that?”  
“Good grief, no! It's bad enough I have to drag you out of danger every single time.”  
Clara crossed her arms in front of her chest in protest. “Hey, when did you ever have to drag me out of danger? What do I do that is so dangerous?”  
Pf, I don't know. Jumping into my time line, crash landing in the Dalek asylum.”  
“My echoes don't count. That technically wasn't me,” Clara complained.  
“Technically, it was you.”  
“Okay, we'll fight about this later. What do we do about Isabel? Obviously, we need to make her see reason.”  
“Yes,” the Doctor said. Clara waited, hoping that he would elaborate, but he didn't.  
“So?” she asked.  
“I was hoping you could talk to her,” the Doctor looked up at her, puppy-eyed.  
“Why me? You're the one she likes.”  
“Because you're the teacher and I kind of screwed up that liking-part last night,” he admitted.

Clara made the Doctor explain in full detail what had been going on in the TARDIS after she had left the conservatory. She then dragged the Doctor upstairs to apologize, but they found Isabel's room empty.

“Okay, we have a missing teenager who hates me and is probably still pretty mad at you. What do we do?” Clara asked after she had concluded the obvious. She was staring at the Doctor, tapping her feet, waiting for him to come up with one of his great plans.  
“Stop worrying, Clara. She will come back.”  
“How can we know that for sure? And how can you be so calm about it?” Clara started to raise her voice, but it had no effect on the Doctor.  
“Because Sammy is sleeping in his basket downstairs.”  
“Oh,” it suddenly dawned on Clara that the Doctor wasn't so oblivious as she always thought him to be. It was true. Isabel would never leave without taking Sammy with her. She would be back, though what they were supposed to do then, Clara didn't know. 

 

OOO

 

“Are you sure?” Cindra asked, “You should never make an important decision while you are angry.”  
“I am absolutely sure. I want away from that planet, from those idiots that call themselves humans. There were two possible ways to do that and one of them isn't working out.”  
“Good,” Cindra smiled, “I understand how you're feeling and I can assure you that once you have joined this school, you will never feel this way again. We're a family and you will be very, very welcome.”  
“Thank you,” Isabel replied, not quite daring to smile back at the woman.   
“There is, however, still the question of your entrance fee.”  
“I don't have any money,” Isabel was worried now. She had known that she would not just be accepted into the school. It would have its price.  
“It's not money we want from you. It is of much, much more value. No money in this universe could buy the thing we want from you. And I'm afraid you're going to have to steal it.”  
“What is it?” Isabel asked.  
“We want the Time Lord's TARDIS.”


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

 

“Isabel, where have you been?” Clara asked. She was relieved to see Isabel when she entered through the front door. Sammy greeted her joyfully, but Clara was still worried.  
“I'm sorry. I slept at a friend's place,” she explained, her eyes on her shoes. Isabel appeared to be in a terrible state of mind, “I'm really sorry. For everything.”  
The Doctor stepped into the foyer and watched the teenager closely.  
“What exactly are you sorry for?” he asked suspiciously.   
“Everything,” she replied, “For treating Jenny this way, and you, Clara. For acting up so you would take me with you.”  
“Yeah, still won't happen,” the Doctor said.  
“Shhh, shut up,” Clara said to the Doctor, “Let the girl explain.”  
“That's it, actually,” Isabel stood there, shuffling her feet nervously, as if she was expecting them to question her further.  
“Thank you, Isabel,” Clara gave her a big smile.   
“What changed your mind?” the Doctor wanted to know but Clara pinched his arm. “What? Clara, I think that's a good question, don't you?”  
“No, I think Isabel just made a sincere apology and we should accept it.”  
“Okay, okay,” the Doctor said, raising his hands, “I accept your apology and dearly hope and now you've taken a turn for the better Vastra and Jenny will return soon because this slow motion life of yours is really starting to tick me off.”  
“Thank you,” Isabel said, though she seemed a bit confused by the Doctor's outburst, “I will walk Sammy now.”

 

OOO

 

“I don't buy it,” the Doctor said, walking up and down the conservatory. He had interrupted Clara's train of thoughts. All she had been thinking in the past few minutes was that it was very likely that Vastra and Jenny would show up soon and her domestic life with the Doctor would once again come to an end. And maybe, if she didn't make up her mind before that happened, she would lose him forever.  
“Sorry, what?” she asked.  
“I don't buy it. Her apology. It seems rather. . . random.”  
“It sounded sincere enough to me. She's a teenager, she had a phase. Maybe the fight the two of you had made her see reason,” Clara said. She too had been surprised by the apology but she saw nothing wrong with it. Teenagers were prone to mood swings. It seemed like a completely normal thing.   
“Yeah, maybe you're right. After all, you're the one who deals with these creatures on a daily basis.”  
“They're children, not creatures,” she laughed, “And if you really told her that she couldn't travel with you, she probably believed you and gave up on that idea. Sometimes, even though I'm not a fan of that, teenagers do need to be shouted at.”  
The Doctor smiled back at her. “Well, well, Clara Oswald.”

Now was her chance, Clara knew it. Now or never. She took a deep breath and gathered all the courage she could find.  
“Doctor?” she asked cautiously.  
“Mh?” he looked up at her.  
“Ah, never mind. Forget about it.” Don't chicken out now, Clara told herself.  
“If you'd be so kind to tell me what I'm supposed to forget?”  
“Doctor. . .,” she said, but her voice turned to a whisper, “No, I can't do that.”  
“Clara, you're starting to worry me. What's wrong with you? Your face is all eyes again.”  
“Doctor, do you want to have sex with me?” she blurted out the words before she could stop herself. And now that she had spoken them, there was no taking them back.  
The Doctor sat down on an old armchair and studied Clara for a while. His face was, as usual, unreadable and she was starting to grow really, really nervous under his gaze. She was about to take it back when he finally spoke.  
“Last time, when I suggested that, you seemed rather grossed out by the idea,” he remarked.  
“Not grossed out, I was merely taken by surprise. You know, humans usually initiate sex in a more. . . romantic matter.”  
“You do realize I tried that, yes?”  
“Yes, I do. Now, “ she got up from the sofa, “But then I had absolutely no clue what you were trying to tell me.”  
The Doctor followed her example as well and stood up to face her as if he couldn't stand not being the tallest person in the room.  
“I realize I'm not the most sociable person. I don't wear my hearts on my sleeve and that is something that will probably not change in this regeneration. You made it pretty clear that you cannot be with a person like me.”  
“I get it,” Clara assured him, “But I think I can overlook that fact as long as I know you and I do indeed want the same thing.”  
“We do,” he replied simply.  
“Okay then,” Clara let out a deep breath, looking down at the floor nervously, “Good we cleared that up.  
“Shall I, how did you put it, initiate sex in a more romantic matter?” he asked. He seemed as uncomfortable and nervous as she was. This was even harder than it had been with John Smith, and Clara had already considered that pretty awkward.  
“No, I think we both made our intentions pretty clear,” she concluded.   
“Good, cause I had absolutely no idea how I was supposed to do that.”  
“Good.”  
“Gooooood.”  
“So, uhm, bedroom? Bedroom is nice,” Clara suggested.  
“Yes, bedroom. Seems like the logical next step,” he stared at her.  
“You lead the way.”

Clara followed the Doctor, who only reluctantly set his feet into motion, upstairs to the room in which she slept. Neither of them spoke a word on their way up, not until Clara had closed the bedroom door behind her.  
“Gosh, this is awkward,” she finally said, “Why is it so awkward? We did that before.”  
“Yeah, but I was human. Also, there is something I should tell you about. . .”  
He stopped when Clara stepped closer.  
“W-what are you doing?” he asked, visibly confused.  
“I'm trying to kiss you. Don't worry, it doesn't hurt,” she smiled sheepishly.  
Clara closed her eyes and waited for the Doctor's mouth to finally touch hers. She forgot about the awkwardness, the tension and how stupid they had both been the moment their lips connected.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

“That was. . . something,” Clara uttered, pulling the duvet up to her chin, trying very hard not to look at the Doctor lying next to her.  
“Something?”   
“Yeah, you know. Something.” She was really looking for a better word to describe it, without sounding mean.   
“Did I not pleasure you?” he asked, back in his favourite state of confusion.  
“I dunno. Do natural disasters pleasure me? I don't think so.”  
“Are you implying that I am a lousy lover, and that John Smith was better?”  
Clara finally tilted her head to look at him. His grey eyes staring back in bewilderment, it was almost comical. Had the situation not be kind of sad.  
“Do we have to go over it again cause I really don't want to. Ever.”  
“Oh, come on, Clara, it wasn't that bad. You've been dating pudding brains for a few years, someone must have been worse.”  
“Well,” she bit her lip, “Nope. This was definitely a new low. But it's okay, you're a Time Lord. You guys have different. . . mating rituals, right?”  
“No, can't say we have.” The Doctor shook his head.  
Clara sighed.  
“What exactly did you dislike about my lovemaking?” he asked on, now seeming absolutely curious.  
“Where do you want me to start? First, that thing with your tongue. Eh-eh. Not cool. And definitely not erotic.”  
“Oh, my tongue was bad? How about your legs! They were everywhere!” the Doctor raised his voice.  
“Yeah, well, people usually move around a bit during the act.”  
“Do people also kick each other in the gut?”  
“Oh, you think that was bad?” Clara screamed at him, “At least I was trying to move. You were as stiff as. . .”  
“As a what?” he raised his eyebrows, and Clara prayed he wasn't hoping for a compliment.  
“A broomstick. It was like making love to a stiff, bony, broomstick.”  
“And you're way too touchy-feely, and clingy.”  
Clara groaned and suddenly jumped out of bed, covering her body with a bathrobe.  
“There's no point talking about this, Doctor. Not with you!” she yelled at him and slammed the door shut behind her.  
“Clara, come back here. That's my robe!”

Only about a minute later, the bedroom door burst open again and Clara found the Doctor still sitting on her bed.  
“Doctor,” she said, her voice trembling in terror.  
“Oh, you've realized it wasn't your robe then.”  
“Doctor, the TARDIS is gone.”  
“What?” he stared at her, his expression gone completely blank in a matter of seconds.  
“There is no TARDIS in the conservatory and if you haven't parked it somewhere else within the last hour, it was probably stolen.”  
“What?”  
“I really don't know how I could possibly make myself clearer. TARDIS. GONE. NOT. HERE.”  
“WHAT?”

Clara had enough of the Doctor's disbelief, so she just grabbed his hand, completely ignoring his naked state and dragged him downstairs. When they had reached the spot where the TARDIS usually stood, the Doctor's mouth fell open.  
“The TARDIS is gone!” he uttered in a low voice.  
“Yeah, and that's not the only thing. Isabel isn't home.”  
“I thought she went for a walk with Sammy?” the Doctor's eyes didn't leave the empty corner of the conservatory.  
“Then why is Sammy here,” she pointed at the dog, sleeping peacefully in its bed, “and Isabel isn't?”  
“I have no answer to that one,” he confessed.

“But I'm afraid we do,” a voice came from the kitchen. Clara turned around to see with great relief that Vastra and Jenny had returned. Both of them had a grave look on their face.  
“Uh, nice,” Jenny giggled when her look grazed over the Doctor's naked figure.  
“Jenny. This is really not the time,” Vastra scolded her in a warning tone.  
“Yeah, you also shouldn't judge a book by its cover,” Clara rolled her eyes.  
“Could we please talk about my skills as a lover some other time and concentrate on my missing TARDIS?”   
“Oh, we know where your TARDIS is and who has it. But I'm afraid this is a rather long story. You might want to get dressed before we start,” Vastra informed him and let herself sink unto the couch.


End file.
